The Christmas Campaign

Mayor Gordon fanned his face as the city clerk looked down at her agenda. “We have the last two points of business. Jacob O’Neil’s proposal for a senior center, and Peter Elliott’s proposal for a youth center. Each of you has five minutes. You want to go first, Jake?”

“Before I begin, I want to make sure I don’t need a permit for a noon get-together for a few of the seniors who are helping me on the center. It’ll be on New Year’s Eve, as well, but it’ll be over long before Peter’s soiree. Besides that, it’ll be in a different part of the building.”

Peter agreed with the general consensus that no permit was needed, and Jake thanked them and began his presentation.

As Peter listened to his cousin’s proposal, he acknowledged it sounded like a worthy project, and any other time, he’d be happy to support it.

Jake echoed Peter’s feelings as he closed his presentation. “I wish the city had the money for this project and the youth center, but I feel we owe it to our senior citizens to do something for them. And a place to gather and play dominoes or cards and have a hot meal is something we can do. Are there any questions?”

George Bivens raised his hand. “Why do you need twenty-five thousand dollars from the city?”

“To ensure your support. If the city doesn’t invest in this, there won’t be an incentive to promote it,” Jake said with a smile. “I’m not asking for a vote on it tonight. Just take a look at the proposal, and I’ll be back at the next meeting to answer more questions.”

The vote was unanimous to take Jake’s proposal under consideration. Betty eyed Peter. “You want to stay where you are and tell us about your project?”

“Sounds good to me.” He remained seated and glanced at the other members. Sheridan and Bivens sat with their arms folded. David Carr and Walter Thomas, who usually voted with Peter, leaned forward. He’d already talked with them, and they were enthusiastic about the project.

Nicole nodded her encouragement, and then he glanced at the mayor. Sweat beaded his forehead and his color was terrible. Tomorrow he’d say something to Hugh about seeing a doctor.

He cleared his throat. “The dance I proposed is only the starting point. Cedar Grove needs a place for older teens to gather. A place where they can feel safe. A place to participate in athletic activities. And that’s what the Richard Elliott Youth Center will be.

“You have my proposal in front of you, and like Jake, I’d like you to take it under advisement. We can—”

“Cedar Grove already has a youth center,” Cal said.

Cal never disappointed him. “That one is for younger kids. The center I’m proposing is for teens old enough to drive.” Peter shuffled his papers. “For the sake of getting out of here in the next five minutes, could we just vote tonight for the city council to take a look at the project?”

Sheridan unfolded his arms and leaned forward. “I’ve looked at it. And I like Jake’s project better. He—”

The mayor rapped his gavel. “Come on, you two. Can’t you— Oh!” Groaning, he clasped his chest. “I, I—”

Hugh Gordon keeled forward.

Peter leaped from his chair as the room erupted in activity. “Nicole, call 9-1-1!”

Betty reached Hugh first, and Peter pulled her away. “Let me help him.”

He leaned over the mayor, trying to get him upright. “We need to get him on the floor!”

“You get one side. I’ll get the other.”

It was Jake.

Peter nodded and the two of them maneuvered the mayor to the floor. Peter worked feverishly to remove Hugh’s tie and unbutton his shirt. His chest was turning blue.

“An ambulance is on the way,” Nicole said. She pressed her fingers against the mayor’s wrist, then felt around, indenting the fleshy skin. “I can’t find a pulse.”

Peter glanced up at Betty. Her eyes begged him to save the mayor. Placing two fingers on Hugh’s carotid artery, he shook his head. “Get the defibrillator!”

Using the heels of his hands, he started CPR and kept the rhythm going until Nicole attached the leads from the portable defibrillator to Hugh’s chest.

The screen showed no rhythm, just waves.

The automated voice blasted, “Clear! Do not touch the patient. Analyzing.”

Peter stopped compressions while the defibrillator analyzed Hugh’s heart rhythm. “Shock advised. Charging. Stand clear.”

“Get back, everyone,” Peter ordered. He pressed the flashing button, delivering the shock. Hugh’s body came up off the floor, and then Peter began another series of compressions. Where were the paramedics?